


Overwrought Thought

by Beewachan



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Akaashi Keiji is awkward as fuck, Confession, M/M, just for fun, kind of, romantic walks on the beach for the sake of primary research
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-17
Updated: 2017-12-17
Packaged: 2019-02-15 19:08:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13037541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beewachan/pseuds/Beewachan
Summary: Akaashi is writing a romcom for his creative writing final, but what’s a romance? Keiji surely doesn’t know. Atsumu helps him become more familiar.





	Overwrought Thought

It was eleven in the evening; Atsumu was half asleep, staring at a calculus book. The buzzing of his phone against the wooden desk startled him to a jump, and he glowered at it because he was in the mood to antagonize inanimate objects. He answered the call nonetheless. 

“Hey, loser,” the voice of Akaashi Keiji had said. 

“Wow, what a kind greeting. I love being called a loser, you asshole,” Atsumu sarcastically droned. He tended to do that when he was tired, sarcastically drone, that is. Or just drone in general. 

“Take a break from your studying, and let’s go look at the stars on the beach?” Keiji asked. 

“Sounds like a fucking bore, and there aren’t any stars outside, but sure. Come get me.” 

Following Atsumu’s instruction, Keiji did, indeed, get him and drove off into the night, like they do in the movies. It was a half-hour drive, during which Atsumu fell asleep, and it was probably a bad idea to go in the first place given Atsumu’s midterm was tomorrow (he knew absolutely nothing, for the record), but sometimes bad ideas can have good outcomes. 

He woke up with a jolt as Keiji came to an abrupt stop at the parking lot. “What the hell?” Atsumu complained not more than two seconds after waking up.

“Sorry, it was an accident,” Keiji said, but he did it on purpose because he didn’t want to have to awkwardly nudge Atsumu until he woke up, or didn’t. 

“You’ve never done that before,” Atsumu muttered, pouting big, pink lips. 

Keiji smiled at him, and his smile was painfully contagious to Atsumu, and it was _annoying_.

“Why are we here, again?” 

“I'm writing a romcom short story that requires a romantic walk on the beach scene for my creative writing final, and I need to experience it before I can write about it,” Keiji explained, and Atsumu gave him that Look. 

Not the look that one would give their romantic partner in a rom com — okay, maybe. It was the “Are you fucking serious?” look with the dash of “You took me away from my calculus for this?” and an extra dash of “We aren’t even in a romantic relationship.” 

“Newsflash, I’m not your boyfriend,” Atsumu said, and Keiji simply grinned at him, turned off the car, got out, and walked over to the other side of the car to let Atsumu out, but Atsumu ruined the romantic gesture by getting out first. 

“I was supposed to open the door for you,” Keiji exhaled, but Atsumu ignored him and closed the door. 

Keiji held out his hand for Atsumu to hold, and reluctantly, the latter placed the palm of his hand against the other’s. 

“Pretend to love me, alright?” Keiji squeezed Atsumu’s hand.

God, Atsumu didn’t have to pretend at all because all it took was one look into those baby blues, and he was done. His heart rate may have escalated into the 170’s when Keiji tapped his fingers against Atsumu’s hand and led them to the seashore, but, hey, it was all swell. 

“Atsumu,” Keiji said his name quietly, and it sounded more intimate than usual. Maybe Atsumu was suffering from delusions. 

“Uh, what?” Atsumu said, ever so charmingly. 

“Let’s leave our shoes here.” What a let down. 

Atsumu complied, slipping them off before walking in sync with Keiji closer to the water, then across the shore of course, as couples do. 

“What do couples do when they walk on beaches?” Keiji asked. 

“Talk, obviously.” 

“Talk to me then,” Keiji requested. 

The warmth of Keiji’s hand against Atsumu’s felt oh so wonderful in the cool breeze of the sea. “I’m failing my test tomorrow.” 

“I can help you.” 

“Maybe later. We’re supposed to be being romantic right now.” 

Keiji laughed, glad that Atsumu was staying on topic. “Thanks for agreeing to come, by the way.”

“Of course. I’d do anything for you, Keiji. Mwah,” Atsumu heavily emphasized the last word and spoke sardonically, but he meant it, just a little bit. 

Keiji grinned, as did Atsumu in turn, and it was nice. Really nice.

“Why are you writing a romcom, anyway? I thought you’d be the guy who writes sci-fi or something.” 

“I am, but we were supposed to write in the genre we’re least comfortable with, and we had to submit an outline with the plot, characters, genre, whatever, and she’d only approve it if it was something we don’t write often, if at all.” 

“Well, that’s fantastic,” Atsumu said, squeezing Keiji’s hand. 

“It is, isn't it?” 

“Yeah. What’s your story about exa—” Atsumu stopped talking when the chill of the ocean water crashed against his skin as high as his lower thigh. “What the hell, man? That wave came out of nowhere.”

“It came from the ocean, but, I understand your concern.” Keiji, to Atsumu’s right, was barely dusted across the ankles with sea spray. Keiji pulled Atsumu farther from the water. “Did your shorts get wet?” 

“Uh, yeah,” Atsumu said heavily. 

“Sorry. We can trade if you want,” Keiji offered. 

“Keiji, I’m not trading shorts with you. Frickin’ beatnik.” 

Keiji shrugged. “Suit yourself.” 

There was a silence as they walked across the sand, and Atsumu wasn’t sure if Keiji thought it was awkward, but he did, a little bit, anyway. 

Atsumu chose to break it. “Hey, gonzo?”

“Yes, boyfriend?” Keiji replied, and if Atsumu could roll his eyes further into the back of his head, he would. 

“You’ve never taken a romantic walk on the beach before?” 

“If I had, I wouldn’t have asked you,” Keiji answered in that monotonous, matter-of-fact voice that he used probably 89% of the time. 

“What kind of lameass relationships have you had in the past that you haven’t been on a romantic walk on the beach?” 

“You see, Atsumu,” Keiji began, looking into Atsumu’s eyes, “I haven’t been in romantic relationships. That’s why I don’t write the romance genre.”

Atsumu muttered something to himself in realization of why Keiji thought calling him “boyfriend” was normal and romantic (or maybe he was being sarcastic; Atsumu could never tell, really). “Dude.” 

“Hmm?”

“How has someone as hot as you not been in a romantic relationship?” 

“I barely have time to breathe with school, work, and extracurriculars. Romantic relationships take time and effort that I haven’t been willing to give,” Keiji sighed. 

“Do you, like, not have feelings?” 

“I have quite a few feelings, _au contraire_ ,” Keiji said it in French, probably just to be annoying. 

“But have you ever had romantic feelings for someone?” 

Keiji took a few moments to ponder the question before finalizing his answer. “I believe so, but I’ve talked myself out of them.” 

“For who?”

“I’d prefer to not share; thanks for your understanding,” Keiji said, and he had to have known Atsumu had zero understanding because of that stupid grin on his face when he said it. 

“Keiji, you’re my _boyfriend_ right now. Boyfriends are supposed to be open and honest.” 

“I had a crush on you for six days when we first met,” Keiji blurted, quickly and abnormally loudly, and Atsumu may or may not have cackled obnoxiously like the wicked witch of the west. 

“Do you mean, like, when we met for two seconds in high school or in freshman year?” 

“Freshman year, because the feelings weren’t romantic in high school.” 

“Excuse me, what feelings?” Atsumu still laughed as he plotted his feet in the sand, and Keiji came to an abrupt stop. 

“You know, physical attraction and a little bit of petty dislike,” Keiji spoke quieter than before, and Atsumu could tell that this would be one of those times he’d fidget with his fingers if they weren’t holding hands. 

“Yeah, I’ve never really had someone fall for me based on personality,” Atsumu said with a nonchalant air, but he cared. He really did care. 

“I mean, I did in, you know, freshman year. I’m sure others have as well.” 

“Okay, if you like me, there’s something seriously wrong.” Atsumu started walking again. 

“But you were kind of sweet and kind, to me anyway, and the way you talked about the things you loved was really endearing, like how excited you were telling me about your plants, and the way you called me an idiot when I asked you if you only have to water cacti once every year… it got me.” 

“I can’t believe someone as smart as you would think that a cacti only needs to be watered once a year.” 

“How was I supposed to know basic cacti care?” 

“Why did being called an idiot ‘get you’?” Atsumu countered. 

“For the same reason I don’t mind you calling me a beatnik. It was kind of hot,” Keiji shrugged, and Atsumu couldn’t fathom words strong enough to express how strange Keiji was. 

“I don’t even know what to say,” Atsumu sighed, and the squeezing of his palm reminded him that Keiji’s fingers were wrapped around the back of his hand.

“I get that a lot.” 

“You really shouldn’t be writing a rom com,” Atsumu changed the subject.

“Maybe. Are you feeling the romance yet?” 

“Are you?”

“Well, the ambiance is fairly romantic,” Keiji said, and he didn’t sound very convinced of the words escaping his lips, but maybe that was just his voice. 

“You’re the least romantic person I know.” 

“Well if you’re so much more romantic,” Keiji put words into Atsumu’s mouth, “teach me a thing or two, won’t you?” 

“Fine, I will.” Atsumu was never one to turn down what sounded like a challenge, even if it wasn’t. “First, you’re supposed to lace our fingers together,” Atsumu raised their conjoined hands, intertwining their fingers, “not just hold my hand.” 

“Noted.” 

“And you’re supposed to say something dumb, like ‘The moon looks beautiful tonight,’ and I’m supposed to say, ‘yeah,’ and you’re supposed to follow up with, ‘but it’s not half as beautiful as you are,’ and then we’re supposed to kiss while the camera pans out.” 

“Atsumu, that’s far too cliche.” 

Atsumu shook their interlaced hands in some sort of fist as he exclaimed, “Well, it’s romantic!”

“Atsumu, your eyes are almost as gorgeous as the eleven-fifty moon.”

“You said it wrong!” Atsumu exhaled in frustration. 

Keiji _chuckled_.

“Is something funny?”

“You’re cute when you’re annoyed with me.” 

Atsumu planted his feet in the sand, shocked only in the slightest. “Keiji, you’re so fucking weird.” 

Keiji urged Atsumu along rather than standing still as well. “Weird makes for a more fun read.” 

“This isn’t a goddamned novel, you crackpot.”

“But what if it were, and you were a fortune cookies writer, and I were your golden retriever filled with scrumptious golden-brown fortune cookies, and we were going for a platonic walk on the beach at eleven fifty-three in the evening.”

“What kind of drugs are you on?” 

“It takes me awhile to get a decent idea, okay?” Without waiting for a response, Keiji said, “Anyway, let me try the romance thing again.” 

“Okay,” Atsumu sucked in a breath, preparing for Keiji’s worst. 

“So, you’re probably wondering why out of everyone I know I called _you_ to come to the beach with me,” Keiji began.

“God, I already don’t like where this is going,” Atsumu said under his breath but loud enough for Keiji to hear. 

“I wanted your company. Because I like you. More than anyone else,” Keiji spoke choppily. 

“You’re terrible at this.”

“I appreciate the encouragement. How’s this: I like you very much, and your presence is enjoyable,” Keiji tried again. 

“Even worse.” 

“I love you to the moon and back”

“Cliche.”

“I was looking at the night sky, and it’s beauty reminded me of you, so I called.”

“Try again.” 

“You’re very attractive.”

“Again.” 

“My passion for you grows like oxygen availability as a result of photosynthesis carried out by algae in the presence optimal temperature, high light intensity, and much dissolved oxygen.” 

Atsumu waited a moment, humming before saying, “One point for creativity, but again.”

“I cannot express with words the immense rapture I feel when I hear your voice.”

“Getting warmer.”

“Atsumu,” Keiji began as he slowed his pace to a stop and turned toward Atsumu, placing a hand along the perfectly sharp line of Atsumu’s jaw.

“What’re you doing?” Atsumu said before he could continue.

“I’m really glad that you're here with me right now.” 

Atsumu met him with silence, not because he was unimpressed, but because that was possibly the most romantic thing said to him in the short nineteen and a half years he’s been on planet earth, and he was dumbfounded, unable to do anything but stare into Keiji’s eyes, his own wide and enraptured, to borrow Keiji’s words. 

Keiji must have thought he had said something wrong because he asked, “Is this not how romcoms end?” 

“Keiji, I thought you were being serious, you jackass!”

“I was. I am delighted that you came out with me tonight.” 

Atsumu glared at Keiji, a tad confused and annoyed, but he still said, “Since you asked, romcoms usually end with a chase scene followed by a kiss and maybe a cheesy one-liner.” 

“Well, I’m not going to chase you since you’re only a few centimeters away, and I was taught that it’s rude to kiss without asking first, so may I kiss you?” 

“Ugh, Keiji!” 

“I understand. Perhaps I’ll write the kiss scene based off of secondary res—” Atsumu cut Keiji off by grabbing a thick chunk of his hair and summarily slamming his lips against Keiji’s. The pressure between them eased anon, and if it weren’t for the tingling pain in his plump lips, Atsumu wouldn’t have even known there was any harsh contact before the oh so sweet sensation he felt now that made his heart flutter out of his chest and his brain go numb. 

Keiji pulled away slowly, breathing weighty sums. “That… was pleasant… very pleasant.”

“I know.” Keiji’s eyes were dark, unreadable, so Atsumu didn’t bother trying. Keiji would probably answer whatever questions he didn’t know he had, anyway. 

Smooth as ever, Keiji asked, “Is it time for the camera to pan out yet?” 

“I think instead of ending with a one-liner and zooming out, the camera should zoom into our laced fingers and then when the shot is perfectly around them, the screen should fade to black,” Atsumu said (not bothering to think about how Keiji would pull off the camera zooming in effect in a piece of writing). 

Keiji squeezed Atsumu’s hand. The warmth of his fingers provided comfort to Atsumu with familiarly foreign touch. Needless to say, Atsumu’s palm met Keiji’s with an equally tender embrace.

**Author's Note:**

> hope u enjoyed the product of my procrastination lol thanks for reading


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